


Nightmares

by theLiterator



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLiterator/pseuds/theLiterator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aedan still gets nightmares. Alistair suggests a solution. There is angst and conversation followed by sex. Takes place at some point after Redcliffe/before Sacred Urn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

Some things just aren’t worth it.

It’s the thought that crossed his mind every time he woke up, sweating and screaming from another nightmare, another glimpse of the Blight.

Alistair had said that some people were ‘sensitive’, and he couldn’t help but think that maybe Alistair equated ‘sensitive’ with ‘weak’, that maybe he was losing respect for him every time he woke him up from another one of the premonitions. In the daylight, Aedan refuses to ask about it.

This time no one woke him. Alistair was over comforting a wounded Dog, and Aedan had to struggle awake himself, had to endure the dreams for far longer.

For lack of anything better to do, he stood up. Dog could use some treats anyway, and he was always a loyal companion. Aedan refused to think about Alistair already comforting Dog.

“Well, look who’s here, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed!” Alistair exclaimed as Aedan trudged over.

“I was worried about Dog,” Aedan lied. Alistair frowned momentarily, but Aedan was reasonably certain that he was unlikely to prod. Alistair hated prodding.

“Yeah, but he’s fine. He’s a warhound after all.”

Aedan snorted, of course Alistair would throw that back at him.

“You said the dreams would get better,” he said suddenly, accusingly.

“For most they do. I hardly have any at all. But you’re different. Like you didn’t already know that,” Alistair said with a wicked grin.

“Hooray for me, I guess.”

“Come on, man. Back to your tent. Can’t have our fearless leader falling asleep on the job, can we?”

“I resign. You get to be fearless leader now.”

It was Alistair’s turn to snort. “Because we all know what a rousing success that would be, now don’t we?”

“If I’m asleep, consider yourself in command.”

“Oh, I can consider it all I want. No one else will have it though. Yes, I can see it now: Warden Alistair, Bastard of Redcliffe, wins against the Blight, once and for all. The history books are simply waiting for me. Schoolchildren will always--“ Aedan elbowed him.

“Shut up. You aren’t allowed to sell yourself short. Besides... if Arl Eamon--“

“Shut up yourself.”

They both fell silent for a moment.

“You know,” Alistair began, a bit hesitantly. “I’ve heard there are some sure ways to ward off dreams. For instance, if one were to exhaust himself completely...”

Aedan tugged Alistair into the tent with him. “Help me with my mail?”

Alistair laughed outright, “Do I look like a squire?”

“Well, if you aren’t a leader, and you are still in this party, you must be something.”

“I’m a man,” Alistair said quietly, serious for once. He unbuckled the breastplate and set it with the greaves and bracers. Aedan didn’t want to know why Alistair wasn’t wearing his own armor. Even in camp, the risks... “I used to be a templar-in-training. I’m... I’m your man, as long as you’ll have me.” Alistair laughed shakily.

Aedan thought about Dairren, who was a squire, dead now. And about whether a former Templar-in-training would be able to do something like this lightly, whether he should be doing this at all.

The knots this would tie in their party dynamics could be left to deal with in the morning, even if it meantt confining everyone to camp except Zevran and Dog.

“You’re thinking,” Alistair said. “I think you do that too often.”

“It’s part of the fearless leader job.” Aedan touched Alistair’s cheek. “I’d be a shitty leader if I didn’t consider my actions beforehand, don’t you think?”

“Wait... wait, you mean me?” Alistair pulled away.

“I thought you were making an offer.”

“No. No! I meant, Morrigan, or... Leliana! She was an Orlesian bard, but, me?”

“In case you hadn’t caught on, I don’t want Morrigan or Leliana.”

“Zevran, then! He’s not exactly unwilling, is he?”

Aedan raised an eyebrow. Alistair sighed, sat down.

“You can leave at any time, you know. But I thought... ‘Have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?’ It’s not exactly subtle.”

Alistair looked up at him. “You’re right, I did say that.” He looked away again, licked his lips.

“I won’t hurt you, Alistair. That I can promise.” Alistair looked up again, his expression completely unguarded.

“When was the last time you kept a promise, Aedan?” he asked softly.

Aedan opened his mouth, but closed it after a moment, resigned.

“Do you really think that about me?”

“You’re the best choice for leader because you can prioritize. And keeping to your word is not a priority.”

Aedan rubbed a hand over his face. He changed the subject, returned to the safer substance of dreams. “My mother used to tell me, she used to say that before the Blight... before the Tevinter mages corrupted the city. She said that we used to have good dreams then.”

Alistair nodded mutely.

“If she’d any idea what awaited me here-- I daresay she would have let me stay behind, defend her, defend Father.”

Alistair leaned forward, grabbed Aedan’s hand. “Don’t say that, Aedan. Don’t ever say… we need you. Ferelden needs someone to stop this Blight. And it wouldn’t be me, not by myself. Because I’d keep my promises. And I’d be dead. So it’s got to be you. Not me.”

“Yeah, that’s all well and good. But I’m never going to sleep again, am I? What good is this power, this ability to perceive, if I can’t be sane to help us?” Aedan groaned. He hadn’t meant to let that slip.

He had been trained in war, in leading people into battle, in outlasting sieges, in tactics and strategy. But not for this. Why did they put their faith into him? He wasn’t trained for this... for guerilla warfare and quick striking, no matter that it had won them the war against the Orlesians.

Alistair spoke then, quietly. “You’ll sleep. You must, so you will. I’ve seen you, and you always do what you must. It’s why you’re here now and not slogging through the Korcari Wilds in search of your brother.”

Aedan flinched. “Thanks for that,” he said bitterly. “One more person I’ve failed in the past few weeks.”

“You haven’t failed him. And if he thinks that, then he’s a selfish bastard.”

“Right, of course. Because I can’t take time out of saving everyone to save my own blood kin?”

Alistair leaned towards him then, and shut him up. Alistair’s kiss was rough and inexperienced, and Aedan couldn’t help but respond. He buried his fingers in the short hair at the back of Alistair’s head, groaned, dragged him closer.

This was exactly what he needed.

Alistair pulled away a bit, his expression shuttered. Aedan was taken aback-- usually the man was an open book. “So it’s a good thing I took off your armor earlier, isn’t it?” he asked slyly.

“I guess so.” Aedan admitted. He leaned down to kiss Alistair some more, dominating him, forcing his head at an awkward angle. Alistair moaned, leaned closer for more. Aedan smiled against his lips, settled to his knees in front of Alistair so that the kiss was more comfortable, though Alistair still had to crane his neck.

“I want you so bad,” he whispered, tugging on short blond hair and smiling at the flicker of discomfort that passed over Alistair’s face. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. And I meant it, for tonight.”

Aedan wanted there to be one moment, one part of this new life of his where he could be honest. If that meant he had to put conditions on his vows, so be it. Tonight was about his sanity, after all.

Alistair nodded, then quickly pulled off his linen shirt. He lay down on the bedroll, mussed hair matching the mussed wool sleeping surface completely. Aedan growled and dove after him, pressing his body fully against Alistair’s and kissing him again. He sucked and bit at Alistair’s lower lip, pulled away to admire his handiwork. Everyone would be able to tell, tomorrow, what they had done in this tent tonight. Aedan couldn’t help the thrill of possessive pride that ran through him at the thought.

Aedan moved down Alistair’s body to remove his trousers. Alistair was hard, ready for him. Aedan smiled up at Alistair through his lashes, and Alistair managed to ask “What are you doing?”

Aedan didn’t answer; just let his actions speak for him as he a licked a long stripe along the underside of Alistair’s cock. Alistair gasped, his hips thrusting up.

“I’ve got you, Alistair.” Aedan murmured, before lowering his head to suck him in earnest. Alistair reached to comb a shaking hand through Aedan’s hair, and Aedan stilled, surprised. Alistair’s expression was one of pure lust when Aedan hazarded a look.

“Is this... is this right?” Alistair managed in a shaky, panting voice. Aedan had forgotten that Alistair had never done this before, with man or woman. He ran a gentle hand along Alistair’s thigh.

“It gets better,” he said. He turned his full attention to Alistair’s cock, but Alistair’s hand in his hair never tightened to a cruel fist, no matter how desperate Alistair’s moans became or how close he came to orgasm. Aedan pretended not to feel anything about that small courtesy.

Aedan pulled away just as Alistair came, working him through it with his hand, murmuring praise about how perfect Alistair was, how handsome-- his usual coaxing lies. Alistair smiled at him, and thanked him.

Aedan sat back on his heels and just looked at Alistair. Alistair frowned. “What about you?” he asked.

“I’ll take care of me, trust me. I’ve just got to find something.”

Aedan fumbled in his pack for the little jar with the oil he’d purchased in Lothering for just this eventuality. Standing up, he tossed it smoothly to Alistair, who caught it and turned it over in his hands.

“What’s this?” he asked, brow furrowing.

“It’s necessary, believe me.” Aedan said, then quickly and efficiently stripped naked. Alistair looked him up and down, once, before blushing and focusing all of his attention on the jar in his hand.

Aedan smiled fondly at the man’s embarrassment. “C’mon, if you’re on your hands and knees, it’s easiest,” he said, lowering himself to the ground next to Alistair. Alistair’s gaze was clearly questioning.

“Must I?” he asked. “I don’t… like not being able to look at you. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“I said it’s easiest, not that it’s the only way. You can stay there if you want. Just bend your knees.”

Alistair relaxed visibly, which made Aedan hesitate again.

He didn’t go so far as to ask Alistair if he’s sure, as he was fairly certain of the answer. Instead he took the jar back from Alistair and unscrewed the lid, dipping his fingers into the slippery unguent.

“Relax, and remember to breathe,” he advised, but gave no more warning before he slid a finger inside Alistair. Alistair hissed in surprise and every muscle in his body seemed to go tense at once. “Breathe,“ Aedan repeated.

Alistair did as he was bid, and Aedan was rewarded with the arousing visual of Alistair forcibly relaxing himself, muscle by muscle. Aedan leaned forward to lick at a pectoral muscle watched with satisfaction as it twitched in response to his attention. He shifted focus to a nipple, sucking and teasing at it as he slowly worked a second finger into Alistair. He wasn’t even sure Alistair noticed the change. Aedan moved to the other nipple, not wanting to neglect it, and worked his fingers inside of Alistair, searching for… there. He smiled and pulled back when Alistair shuddered and moaned.

“Good?” he asked.

Alistair nodded. “Please... Maker above, I want you,” he whined.

Aedan nodded in return. He dipped his finger back into the jar, spread the unguent over himself. He carefully maneuvered Alistairs legs, tilted his hips just right before he pushed in.

That familiar tight, hot feeling of being completely inside someone overwhelmed him for a moment, And he kissed Alistair everywhere he could, before capturing his lips again. “So good, so good.”

Alistair brought an arm around Aedan’s waist, loose embrace, and the other up behind Aedan’s neck, to drag him down for more kissing. Aedan happily obliged, even as he set a steady rhythm of thrusting, halftime to the throb of his pulse in his ears.

They stayed like that, Alistair kissing Aedan as Aedan thrust into Alistair, and when Aedan finally found his release, he was loathe to leave that comforting embrace.

He pulled away. Because he must, because this wasn’t anything more than what it was.

Alistair grabbed for him though, before he could put on his clothing and leave.

“Your seed is inside me. It’s hardly indecorous for you to sleep beside me, now is it?”

“I shouldn’t,” Aedan protested, eying the tent flap with some desperation.

“If I were a maiden, would you leave?”

“Yes!” Aedan said. He would more likely leave some girl to cry than a man-- because a man wouldn't cry.

“Then don’t treat me like some maiden. Stay the night. I’ll guard your time in the Fade, and besides,” Alistair paused a moment. “It’s your tent.”

Aedan hesitated a few moments more, before nodding his head in acceptance or acquiescence before lying down on his side with his back to Alistair. Alistair rolled to his side as well, then tugged the blankets up around them, and settled there, with Aedan in the protected circle of his arm.

Aedan did not dream again that night.

***  
As ever, comments are love.


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